LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 






$ — — e^ -. 

i UNITED STATES OP AMERICA, f 



I. I F E - R E A L 



A POEM, 



BY 



GEORGE A. S TILLMAN 



"0 


/^•> 




NEW YORK: 


J. c. 


DERBY, 119 NASSAU STREET. 




BOSTON: PHILLIPS, SAMPSON & CO. 




CINCINNATI : H. W, DERBY, 




1855. 









Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1854, by 

GEORGE A. STILLMAN, 

In the Clerk's office of the United States District Court for the Southern 

District of New York. 



Printed by IIolman, Gray &, Co., New York. 



TO 

JOHN E. LOVELL, Esq., 

MY 

FRIEND AND TUTOR, 

STMs Volume fs Kcspectfulb Knscnbelr, tg 

THE AUTHOR. 



LIFE-HEAL 



SCENE I 



A LAKELET— SUNSET- 



CARL TON, walking along its umbrageous shore. 



CARLTON. 



Oh ! that God, e'en this trembling soul would 

light 
With one faint glory — throw one gleam from off 
His burning shield, that sheeny pilgrims round, 
Sandal'd in gold, to join the choir of worlds. — 
Why doubtful now of God ? I will not doubt. 

(Paushig.) 
Oh ! soul burning with ire, amid the halls 
Of festive youth, as sweeps to solemn strain 



s 

The mystic harp of life, upon the breast 

Of thought, pillow thy restless cheek, — e'en 

thought 
Is God, — thyself His younger mystery. 

(A long Pause.) 
Look out, soul, mantled in robes of dust, 
Shorn of its ruddy folds, by journeyings 
Oft 'mong cliffs abrupt, that line the shores 
Of life — beyond, the seas of imagery 
Nourished by rills of stars and silver moons— 
Where Argosies of twilight rest becalmed, 
See God, in sunset robed, refulgent, now, — * 
Surges of gold o'erspread the mountain's brow 
And whelm the forests with their burning 

curls. 
See night, awakened from her sunny dreams, 
Leap with the crescent moon, to waltz awhile 
Within the starlit chambers of the eve. 

(Sitting upon the shore of the Lake.) 
And thou, imprisoned lakelet, thou asleep 
Beneath the golden eyelids of the day — 
God's robe of landscapes o'er thy crystal 

cheek — 



Awake and drink thy goblet brimmed with stars, 
Pressed to thy azure lips by moony hands. 

(Sings.) 
Oh ! God Thy wondrous infinitude appears, 
'Mid thy burning crown, the reverent spheres, 
Universe Thy heart, eternity Thy throne, — 
Thy dread rule beyond a thought — the Great 
Unknown. 

Oh ! Deity, robed in God, thyself unfold, — 
Where creation lit her thousand lamps of gold, 
E'en where spirits waked, like stars as sleeps 

the sun, 
Waked into life — a life ne'er yet begun. 

( Falling upon the shore.) 
Would that I were dead, a tearless relic. 
Chained with forever 'pon the breast of tombs. 
And, ah ! this soul leaping the golden walls 
Of dawn into Heaven — (Rising,) 

But once to die. 
But one draught of the skully goblet — one — 
Why would I sleep ? Kound memory's shrine 

e'en 



10 

Lingers still the echo of childhood's harp. 
The past comes up, like twilight o'er my soul, — 
The dimples on my cheek behold, e'en framed 
In smiles — and now, a pool of pearls they 

seem 
Bounded by a shore of blushes — (Pausing.) 

Oh ! God, 
Wert mine to live again in innocence 
I'd reconstruct my castle 'mong the stars. 
Oh ! soul, at banquets with the Deity, 
Beneath the gilded archway of the skies. 
Lambent with rivers of the galaxies — 
Orchestras of minstrel streamlets around — 
Singing winds, whose chorister is God, why 
Madly strive to burst the deep barr'd future — 
To solve the unknown real. Canst thou. Oh ! 
Death, o'erthrow the dismal glooms that 

shadow 
Eternal sunshine ? ( WalJcing hastily.) 

I long for Heaven, 
To roam its meads perennial, enjoy 
An Eden, robed in song and Deity, — 
The music of its rivulets of stars. 



11 



Heaven embraced in Heaven, God in God ! 
God ne'er dimmed thy vision, soul, with one 

gleam 
Of the immortal — alone the mortal 
See itself. — (Reclining beneath a willow.) 

Weary, I'll lull my bosom 
With a dream. — 



SCENE IL 

CARLTON SLEEPING BESIDE A WILLOW. 

Lady ajrpi-oaching the Lake. Evening of the some 
day. 



The moonbeams silver the wave; 

The stars are kissing the sky. 
One token of Heav'n I crave, 

Thou wilt my wishes supply. 

CARLTON, waking. 

Methinks in a chariot of a dream 

My soul was riding up from Hope to Heav'n, 



13 

O'er seas, with surge of stars and lambent 

moons, 
Giddy with rapture, a strain angelic. 
Leaped a choir of symphonies, where echo 
With echo, sleeps upon the breast of God — 
And all a dream ! (Pausing.) 

Mind climbing sunset spires 
To Heaven are dreams. (Starting.) 

Hark, ye restless brain — 
Those strains, again renewed — the wishful 

moonbeams 
Awake, the sylvan harp of woodlands drear. 

LADY, sitlgS. 

This sleeping lake is like my love. 
Its silv'ry waves are flowing. 

The stars are beaming far above. 
Stars on its depths are glowing. 

The moon doth spread her silv'ry sails 

Within a twilight sea, 
Her starry crew, the darkness pales, 

Her haven a galaxy. 



14 



I would this spirit waking wert embosom'd 
On the echo of those strains. Some spirit — 
Ah ! 'tis sure my spirit bride — an angel 
Now, she hastes 'side the deep blue sea of stars, 
With ribbon sunset, round her feet entwined, 
Each footstep, waking up a sphere to song. 
That blushing seek a rest of melodies 
Beneath the golden ringlets of the morn. 
Ah ! she come, she comes, to tell the welcomes 
I shall greet, when God our bridal vows shal't 
Seal again, e'en within his marriage Hall, 
Eternity. 

LADY, a 

Mortal, whence comest thou ? 
I sought the goblet of a quiet hour, crown' d 
With moony pearls, beside this crystal couch, 
The path of sunsets, hither took to read 
The book of tears — this heart, this heart of mine. 
The woodlands, nodding with their sunset 
'plumes. 



15 

My songs invite, to greet the queenly Eve, — 
She weeps, — see tears of stars her cheek suffuse. 
E'en yon cliff, liis lute of echo wakes ; 
His granite lips her azure cheek doth press. 

(Approaching the shore of the Lalce.) 
The woodlands lift their jeweled hands 

To God in prayer and praise. 
Yon lakelet bound w^ith silver bands, 
Murmurs its sweetest lays. 

The flowerets kneel, their breasts unfold. 
Beside night's purple throne. 

The fire-flies strew the meads with gold. 
None, none can praise alone. 

CARLTON, Starting ivith rapture. 

Art thou a sentinel 
Upon the golden towers of sunset. 
With moony shield inlaid with stars or love ? 
Perchance a sinless dream hath buoyed me 
O'er seas ethereal, past lordly realms 
Of galaxies to Heav'n, and now becalmed, 
I gaze till rapture seals my burning thought. 



16 

And to its throne, miblest, one image clings. 

(Pausing,) 
Tliou seeniest not a pilgrim of the tomb, 
Beneath thy swaying locks of raven hue 
The moonbeams weary, close their silv'ry eyes. 
The love-sick starlight, on thy dimpled cheek 
Doth rest, as smiles the hall of blushes ope 
To greet a kiss, the errand-boy of love. 
Thine eyes, coined in the hollow of God's hand, 
Beaming amid an universe of thought, 
Lighting the Eden twilight of a soul — 
Crystal mirrors of the angels. Hath cups 
Of wo forlorn, frenzied thy young heart, press'd 
Those lips, where song her choral band convenes, 
With draughts of thisw^orld's care, sorrow with 

her 
Demon eye, direful clinging to its flow, 
Perverting e'en the coyful witchery 
Of their love? I with summers young, cradled 
With Hope, 'pon a hill of blue, where sunsets 
Ling'ring, waved to Evening's Host her ban- 
ner, 
Dyed in the tears of day, the heart ne'er saw 
But woke a tear, its gloom to light away. 



17 

The Soul, a Heaven e'en worth, the Feast of 

Wo, 
A rich repast, atoms of Deity. 
Come, we'll sit beside Viola kneeling, 
Beside the altars of the Eve for prayer, 
Her petaled lips unfolding, e'en to drink 
The cup of dews, at banquets with the Stars. 

(Carlton and Lady sitting.) 
See, fire-flies gild the flowerets pillow. 
And meadows lighted with their lamps of 

gold.— 
Lady, thy lips, in song embalmed, can weave 
This Eve of tears into a golden love. 

LADY. 

Ah ! how oft this lakelet pearl I've sought, 

set 
In the dimple of the mountain cheek, as 
Purple clouds, like a pall, hung o'er the couch 
Of dying sunbeams, kissed with golden lips, 
Then wept themselves away. — This night, my 

heart 
Burst the sick'ning chain of festivity, 



18 

From fancy, Queen of love-sick chance, to lull 
A beating breast with balms of solitude. 
Solitude is Nature, thoughtful — rev'rent, — 
God's summer-house, — where cascades su- 
blimely 
Sermonize, with rainbows on their heads, 

where 
Cliffs gigantic frown, with grandeur sculp- 
tured 
On their craggy breasts, with a thought of 

God,— 
Where kingly oaks, in living vestments clad, 
Hold forests in their arms. With solitude 
I'd rather sleep, when death, my bosom binds 
With glacier chains, and w^ear a shroud of 

leaves 
Embroidered by the queenly May, to robe 
The summer in, that Autumn, hoary, strews 
Around her sepulchre, and moony tears 
The dusky cheek of night, to trickle down 
Upon my lowly rest, unknown, — unsung. 

(Rising.) 
I'll freight a Zephyr with a prayer, and kiss, 



19 

With song and praise, the woodland's dewy 

cheek. 
Mortal, thine heart hath coined a lay of words 
A joy, around a withered hope to twine. 
Words — words are worthless gifts, as bleeding 

lies 
The heart. (PhwTcing a violet.) 

A violet, I'd be, pillowed 
Upon the clover's breast, e'en fed by dews 
As rivulets of stars, run down the blue 
'Pon the bosom of the night. Dost thou 

love? 



CARLTON. 

Why speak of love '? the trinity of Heaven — 
The royal limner at the Court of Hearts. 
His easel, morn, — his skill perfected, see 
Your cheek, that roses bloom to imitate. 
His altars, with a vow, love kindles e'en. 
And hastes his chariot-kiss along, where 
Smiles are toying with a blush — ah ! unworth 
This sphere, a twilight robe, a sheeny rest 



20 

Were song, unwritten on its varied page 
With love. 

LADY. 

Mines of thought — gems in thine heart. 
Girlhood is Eve within her paradise. 
When on yon blue the stars like lilies seem, 
And ev'ry bud, that lifts its cheek of balms 
Beside its mossy tomb, pale sisters called. 
Girlhood, a holy day of jubilees. 
But oh! when childhood gives its prattling 

lips 
To youth, the nectar of life's cup is drained. 
A page, my heart, I dare not, could not, read 
Its title e'en for Earth's cold heart to feel. 
Can'st thou pity ? 

CARLTON. 

Pity, bride of moonbeams. 
Ye loved one ? E'en her whisper soft I crave. 
As Earth, forgetful of her Eden prime. 
Lay, in earthquakes robed, 'pon the fi'ry breast 



21 

Of" Hell, God wept, and IVoni His tears spran-g 

forth 
Angelic greatness. Pensively, with Him, 
She stood before a crystal fount embower' d 
With suns. Upon her bosom beamed a star. 
And in glory mantled her. God called her. 
Pity, and Praise her lyre awoke, each string 
A world, and Heav'n replete with song, — to 

Earth 
With Mercy came, yea reared the cross accurst. 
That Death, no more, should vaunt his cruel 

sting. 
She gave, to die, her Father Deity. 
Write thy thoughts, thou Empress of Solitude, 
Upon my heart, and who can read them ? 

LADY. 

God. 

CAELTON. 

And what of God ? 

LADY. 

Thought perfected, holy, 



22 

That peopled cliaos with young worlds,— 

nourished 
Till time grew hoary in His arms, ere man 
Was sculptured from the breathless sands of 

Earth. 
The years, with praise and glory to attune, 
Or gather thoughts for an hereafter crown. 
God smiled, and Heav'n unloosed the gates of 

morn ; 
He spake, and sunset draped the eve in gold, 
And Night, o'erjoyed, was hoary with her 

stars : 
He thought, and manhood leaped from dust 

complete : 
He loved, and Angels ushered in an Eve ; 
Her eyes a dawn, her cheek a paradise. 
My heart, her lute of lips, hath waked again. 

{S'mgs.) 

God made Eden out of sunset ; 

Strewed its w^alks with fadeless flowers ; 
Called the gleaming sands together ; 

Made a temple e'en like ours. 



23 

When the temple was completed 

God's own image rested there ; 
And He crowned it with immortal, 

Asking only song and prayer. 

As the first born lay in slumber, 

E'en the starry hosts above 
Strung their golden harps with glory, 

Crowning Eden with their love. 

Grod hath set the winds to music ; 

Kissed a fragrance 'pon the flowers ; 
Loaned an anthem to the river ; 

Strung with praise these hearts of ours. 

And shall we sit, broken-hearted, 

'Mid the music of the spheres? 
Rouse the soul to God-like action, — 

God asks praise and not our tears. 

CARLTON. 

Oh ! lute of lutes, thy h^art, thou bride of song. 
The angels ne'er will sing again. 

[Approaching the Lady.) 



24 

Unfold 
Thy heart, and on tablets of forever 

I'll pen thy words. 

LADY. (Rismg.) 

See, the golden rivers 
Of the dawn o'erflow the strands of night. 

See, 
Morn her wings of gold hath spread, and 

joyful 
Hastes to kiss away the stars. (A imuse.) 

Hence I flee, 
Nor wait the gold transforming sun to drape 
The meads in pearls. Back, — back to noisy 

strife 
I'll haste, where clamor broods her wing. I'll 

dwell 
Among my books and tears, they faithful serve 
To guide the hours aright. We'll meet again 
Beside the tomb of garnered hopes and joys 

{Exit.) 

CARLTON — [Walking hastily alovg the shore.) 
Upon the twilight's blushing walk she's fled. 



25 

The flowers awakened at her sinless tread, 
Robed in their gems, unstring their odor 

harps, — 
The Morn enraptured, doffs his golden plume. 
And steals her blush wherewith to gild his 

shield. {Pausing.) 

Love's harp with human hearts is strung. Ah ! 

mine ! {A long pause.) 

'Tis all a jubilee. 

This solitude 
I ne'er can bid adieu, till God forgive. 
Oh ! my soul, thou a prayer should' st wing to 

God.— 
To God, — him whom I have mocked, — derided 

e'en ! 
No Deity save self I've known — still lash'd 
With a skeptic's scourge — a burning envy 
Kankling in my breast — envied of despair — 
An immortality for death I've spread. 
And asked the tomb a tearless rest to loan. 
Beside the pulseless sleep of bridal hopes 
I've stood, and mocked the living. Ah ! the 

world, 



26 

Without a tear. Well done, my soul, well 

done. 
Tliou cursed' st nought but what e'en curses 

thee. 
Oh ! Solitude, thy prayer, thy praise, but teach 
Me now ? I'll pray, and make a friend of God. 
Ah ! trembling still twdxt doubt and dut}^^ 

Fears, — 
Pale fears, away. You'll starve my God, to 

feast 
Gehenna well — away. Oh ! prayer — prayer, 

what 
Art thou ? — A mere soliloquy, life's fears 
To fright away. [Kneeling.) 

Oh ! infinite, eternal God ! 
Robed in omnipotence — supremely great ! 
Unfathomed by a thought — beyond the sea 
Of worlds, and yet w^ithin the list'ning groves. 
Eternity itself but a moment 
Of thy horologe. God of Deities — 
Magnetic center of soul destiny ! 
The Architect of suns— of soul — of thought — 
Seen in twilight, man and God ! Existent 
In a self-existent God ! King of kings ! 



27 

The first — the last. In robes of gold, Thy 
smile 

Attires the day. Thy angels kneel for prayer 

Beside Thy throne. Thy throne is everywhere. 

The harps of spheres are ever tuned for thee ! 

And oh ! Thy soul's unrest — ^the fallen Gods, 

Wearing Sin's iron crown in courts of clay. 

Oh ! God of Gods ! and King of Kings ! for- 
give. 

And glory, such as sw^eeps her lyre in praise, 

Is Thine, till worlds are gathered — Stars 
forget 

To shine, and Earth in winding sheet of fire 

Is laid. 



SCENE in, 

A CEMETERY, EVENING. 

HELEN, seated upon a grave^ si?igs, 

I wish I was with childhood's hours, 

Once more — once more, 
I'd there dwell among the flowers 
And rear me jessamine bowers. 

I'd pave the floor 
With buds of violet, 
Whose velvet petals set 
With rainbow gems — and there, 

I'd sport alone. 
I'd call it, world of mine, 
The buds, my stars, to shine 



29 

In skies of eglantine. 
I'd build a throne 
Of pink and myrtle leaves, 
And fragrant clover sheaves, 

And call and own 
Nature's minstrels, the birds, 
And breathe their softest words. 
Ah ! I'd call from his chilling rest. 

My sleeping Willie Lee, 
And 'round his curly locks would bind 

Buds of the locust-tree. 
I wish I was with childhood's hours 

Once more, once more, — 
I'd deck my love with spring's first flowers, 
Once more, once more. 
The flowrets bloom 

Beside the hill. 
And singing yet 
The silv'ry rill, 

Once more, once more, 

(Pausitig.) 
The birds may sing. 
My heart is lone, 



30 

Sweet girlhood's group 
Have loved and gone, 
No more, no more. 

(Enter Carlton.) 

HELEN. 

Sir Pilgrim, the first smile, enrobed in tears, 
Awakes, as welcome greets thee, 'side the 

tombs 
Of gathered gems, and hearts that pulsed with 

love. 

CARLTON. 

The welcomes of our weary day, preface 
The drear farewell. The hoary chorister 
Amid the tombs — the last, the last farewell. 

HELEN. 

Alone, upon the battlements of tombs. 
We've met — the prison-house of wearied dust : 
So holy, seems the dwellings of the dead. 



31 

Yon moon, her cheek hath veiled in silv'ry 

fleece. 
Spirits, invisible, doth gather 'round 
Tlieir sleeping dust, ne'er craving e'en again 
Their robes of clay. Of all the captives bound 
In bands, e'en wove by Winter in his loom 
Of ice, no lip to munnur moves — no voice. 
These flinty gates, touched w^ith the sculptor's 

pen. 
The captives' hour rehearse. Ah ! God alone, 
The prison-house unbars — the key hangs on 
His burning throne — Who's not an idol chained 
With earthy manicle, w^ithin its walls 
Of chill and gloom "? 

CARLTON. 

Not one — the Deity, 
His Son, Redeemer, Lord, e'en loaned to wear 
Awhile, in halls of gloom, the icy chain — 
Why should'st thou fear, oh ! dust, the chain 

to wear 
That bound a God — the spirit, then, beyond 
A thought of ill, 'neath bowers of angel's wings. 



32 

Oh ! thought of thoughts supreme — a God^ — 

our God 
Entomb'd within the hall of sepulchres. 
As low, they laid the regal Prince of worlds, 
Earth's flinty sinews shook- — the sun wept tears 
Of blood, upon her cheek of fire, and one 
By one did gather, stars and moons around 
His guarded rest, and wept themselves away. 

HELEN. 

Think ye, whose sinews knit for rougher toiU 
While Earth, her inmost bosom heaved, yea, 

deep. 
Lit her craggy breast with lurid flame, as 
Thunders knelled a dying God, and lightnings 
Gnashed their teeth of fire, she, pale woman, 

since 
An angel called. His Cross embraced, 'mid 

taunts 
And gleaming spears — and she, when midnight 

lone, 
Wept tears of stars adown her puqDle cheek, 
Culled soul-gems from the tearful fount, the 

tomb . 



33 

Of Deity to gild. (Pausing.) 

Each heart-throb speeds 
The cliariot of that grim chieftain, Death. 
I thoughtless tread, methinks, the dust once 

fed 
By pui-ple rivulets, and clasped in years 
Of sunny Hope, by undying Spirit. 
Methinks, I can discern, in each sand, that 
Gleams in its livery of moonbeams, some 
Ruined trellis work of a soul. Ages 
Are hoary with their crowns of death. No nook 
In the wide beautiful but wears a tomb. 
No Sylvan bride, but weeps her lover, Spring. 
At courts of worms, we'll wear the skully 

crown, 
Save, by the flowers that nourish on my heart, 
Forgot. A song of tears my lips awake. 

(Siiigs.J 

Soothing angels of our life, 

Tears, priceless tears. 
Beside the heart-fountains, rife 

Tears, priceless tears. 

2- 



34 

Sleeping, 

Crystal argosies 

In a sea of eyes, 

Leaping, 

Down the rosy mead. 

The cheek ; 
E'en to intercede 
And speak. 
When the heart is broken, 
And harsh words are spoken ; 
Creeping, 
Sweeping, 
O'er the furrowed way. 
Where smiles were wont to play, 
E'en to their rest. 
Upon the breast. 

Tears, priceless tears. 

CARLTON. 

Ah ! Helen, tell, hast thon forgetful been 
Of promise made with starlit lips, beside 
The moony lake, that promise here, you threw 
'Mid shipwrecked barques, whose freight of 
pearls gleam bright 



35 

Upon the brow of God — thine heart unlock, 
Ah ! give its bars of fear to idle winds, 
And to it, mine shall cling like love to God — 
Heed my behest. (Pausing.) 

Enough of Death, I've heard — 
His power I feel — 'neath each star a grave — 
Each shining sand, a monument of his. 
And 'neath his burning ire, will crush me soon. 
Oh ! minstrelsy of tombs, away, begone — 
Oh ! skully lute, away. 'Neath yon willow, 
Eloquent, with flinty lips, the marble 
Speaks of prowess and renown — marble's dust. 
Why mock the fallen play-house of the soul 
With titles on the sand ? 

HELEN. 

Our mother Earth, 
The younger of the spheric family. 
For ev'ry heart, away she bears, a flower 
Doth give, chilled with her breath, she 

tearless, hides 
It 'neath her breast. (Fointing to grave.) 

Lovingly, love's hand hath 



36 

Trained the myrtles soft embrace 'romid yan 

mound, 
The sleepmg bosom presseth out to mark 
Its lowly pillow— come, walk with me, Sir 
Pilgrim, the lonely tomb shalt see, where 

sleeps 
My girlhood's idol — he, of raven locks. 
Whose eye, the diamond's glow did'st shame — 

of whom 
The angels sung — wdiose lips the morn out- 
vied. 
Oh ! sweeter than the eve by far his smile, 
That summer gathers in the rosy West, 
To drape around the altars of the stars. 
His words were rounded with a seraph's 

tongue. 
No lute could breathe so sweet, and. Oh ! 

when God 
E'en took him to His breast, a play-fellow 
For the angels, with stars to sport and wear 
His glory-robes — with music wings to haste 
From song to prayer, the terror King, I asked, 
Around my heart, his Arctic chain to bind, 



37 

Life's harp unstring, and low its fragments 

rest. {Both beside WiJlie''s tomb.) 

Oft at this little chamber, in the dust 
Gemmed with dews, I've knocked with tears, 

till midnight 
E'en glanced his eye upon his tomb of gold. 
Beside the gleaming minarets of morn. 

{Kneels ii2)tm his grave and iveeps.) 
He sleeps — he sleeps — no word of by-gone 

days- 
No happy memories — no tales of love 
In childhood's numbers told, 'neath evening's 

wing 
Can break the trance, the trance of fettered 

clay. {Rising.) 

I know that God, beneficent, divine. 
Ne'er will forbid the Spirit's eye to gaze 
Upon its earthly loves, and love again 
Memories brighten in that better land ; 
Ne'er treads forget, the walks of Deity. 
A love in heav'n, will seek its kindred here, — 
Without an angel near, the heart ne'er loves. 
The Spirits of the dead come with our tears — 



38 

Gladden with our songs — wing our prayers to 

Grod, 
And whisper to our dreams, realities. 
Oh ! thou whose brow is heavy with a thought 
Hath said, each grave its star, my Willies' 

where, 
0, tell ! hath its twinkling blush paled and 

gone ■? 
It beams upon the breast of Deity. 

(Gazing at the stars, sings.) 

There's his spirit. Godly bright, 

Gleaming, 

Beaming 
Brighter than the star-lit night. 
See, his harp of golden strings ; 
See the sunset on his wings. 
Hear him as he sweetly sings 
" Praise to God the King of Kings." 

That I wert there — I'd seize a lute of stars. 
And teach new anthems to the angel choirs. 



39 



(Sings.) 

See his walks of fadeless flowers, 
Where the angels build their bowers 
Of rainbows, and of starry gleams. 
Yea, interwove with sunset beams. 

O ! God of Gods, this longing soul receive, 
And feed its lips immortal, with thy love ; 
Yea, crown it with a bliss. 

{Si?igs,) 

See the ambrosial goblet, sparkling 

At his lips of ruddy pearls ; 
See, through the starlit concave, darkling. 

Angels sporting with his curls. 

CARLTON. 

Thou art inspired ! 

HELEN. 

A thought is inspiration, robed of God. 



40 



We're all inspired according to our wills ; 
No thought or purpose, but from God proceeds 



CARLTON. 



Think ye, songstress of the beautiful, that 
The dust of sleeping loves will ever wear 
Again its lost jewelry, the soul ? 



HELEN. 

Yes, 
When God the stain and rust of sin removes, 
He'll restore again the gem, perfected. 
To its dust, with angel guardians near. 
And visible, with joys to crown its life. 
The dust within these tombs, in flinty chains. 
Will dance with glory sandals on their feet, 
To melodies of worlds, as God's cheek lights 
The millennial morn. Be penitent ; 
The skeptic in thy words I read — I'll love 
Thee with thy sinner's heart — repentant be, 
I'll pray thy weal, as loves their bridal hour. 



41 



CARLTOX, 



Pray for me, ye, on whose heart the Graces 
Hold their festivals? Prayers of thine, me- 

thinks, 
"Would fatal stab the demon of my soul. 
Pray, and keep the angels hurried, writing 
Out thy prayers in stars. 



HELEN. 



Ah ! list, I hear, 
Methinks, amid the gloom, the voice of song. 
Some weeper comes to bury tears and chant 
Their requiem. 

STRANGER, in file distonce sinscs. 

Weeping, weeping, ever weeping, 
O'er my loves, so sweetly sleeping. 
Lonely, lonely, 
Feeling only, 
Tread of angel 

Walking lightly. 



42 

Where the moonbeams 

Eest so brightly. 
Wings unfolding, 

Holding, holding 
Torch of stars above the dead 
Throwing, throwing, 
Glowing, glow^ing, 
Halos round the sleeper's head. 
Winging, 
Singing 
To their harp of sunset strings, 
Of the soft and golden wings, 
Of the streamlets 

Ever leaping, 
Harp of cascades 
Ever sw^eeping, 
Halls of sunset ; 
Starry bowers. 
Seas of twilight, 

Fadeless flow^ers ; 
Moony rivers. 

The meads untrod. 
The throne of Suns, 
The rest of God. 



43 



HELEN. 



How oft, with tears, the heart is strung, alas ! 
A dirge to music forth. A tear is all 
The grave can feel ; a tearless soul is mad. 
The midnight, wearied, pillows on a couch 
Of moony down. Sir Pilgrim, Hope and 
Heaven. 



SCENE IV. 

CARLTON ALONE IN HIS STUDY— MIDNIGHT. 

CARLTON, walJiing. 

My lamp faint flickers in its socket ; pale 

Its shadows fall. ( Opens the casement.) 

Gloomily the Night King 
High sits upon his ebon throne, and quaffs 
The brimming goblets of the stars, the more 
His cheek to blush, ere day deep thrusts her 

spears 
Of gold into his breast. The glow-worm sits 
Upon the twinkling shadow of a star. 
And rev'rent turns its sheeny breast to God. 

(Closes tJie casement.) 



45 

Alone with God and self, 'mid volumes 
Won by Fame's alluring voice; pioneers 
That upward clomb the craggy steeps of life, 
God's crown of thought to win and merit well — 
Yea, right and left, the rock of dogmas cleft, 
Embraced by hell, that sin might have a creed. 
How few thy stars, oh ! book- world, revolving 
Kound the Bible-sun — God's biography. 
Upon whose sacred page each life is penned, 
Wont gorge enough the worldling's safe — elder 
In Thought's sisterhood, subterfuge when storms 
Arise. Oh ! Thoughts, the key within thy 

grasp. 
The millennial morn to ope ; thy might 
Beyond the grasp of dying dust ; thy power, 
To solve the soul beyond its robe of tears — 
And yet incomprehensible. (Sitting.) 

Chain Thought, 
Chain Deity — incarcerate the day. 
Or rear a soul of atoms infinite. 
No sooner born to look and smile on God, 
The critic comes professedly, in guise 
Of learned philosopher — e'en self-supreme, 



46 

A child of Mammon, gold, can only bless ; 

The pilgrim thought to face his awe demands. 

Yea, points his finger grim at skeletons 

Of genius, bold and incorruptible, 

That he but damn'd, while Heav'n cried, emu- 
late. 

Heav'n loves the thought that most the critics 
damn. 

Fight on, ye cloistered knights, fight on ; thrust 
deep 

Your swords of ire, e'en on your permission 

Clings the worldling's ho^DC ; yourselves, a 
starveling 

Quarantine. (Pausing.) 

Ah ! Heaven I ne'er can see. 

Nor feel the presence blest of wand'ring loves. 

That leaped the tomb, life's tale to tell to God. 

Oft in the past they've soothed my weary hours 

With lute of hearts from spheres of golden 
strains ; 

No nearer God, methinks, than with the months 

Long since entomb'd with mother year. Shad- 
ows 



47 

Are mine. (Risi?ig hastily.) 

Ah ! shall I linger on the shore 
Of life till surging death o'erwhelm ? — forgot — 
I want a heart, akin, these tearless hours 
To balm, these tears to gather one by one 
In caskets gemmed with love. I'd haste for 

such, 
O'erjoyed to learn the love songs of the spheres, 
Sung in the paradise of Galaxies 
To their Eve ; a trellis-work of rainbows 
For her I'd rear, clusters of luscious stars 
Among. I'd borrow the robes of twilight 
To wed her in ; and ah ! my bridal hour, 
When sunset kissed away the wearied moon, 
Save the pale crescent on her brow ; I'd ask 
The violets in velvet tapestry 
To come and string their lutes of balm. How 

clad 
My bride, in robes of innocence and love. 
Jeweled with tears, the raiment of a vow. 
Oh ! bridal hour, too sinless save for God 
And song. Love's bridal hour by God is 

crowned ; 



48 

I love, i know not what, 'tis not the flirts 
Cosmetic cheek, whose heav'n is hell in bud, 
Who see of God, the more in gew-gaws, than 
In stars and heav'n, her gate of suns, wide 
Ope'd in amorous blush, adown the cheek 
Of lover stealing. Yea, I'd rather dwell 
A serf, in Ghostdom's Hall of ice, confined, 
Than rev' rent bow a knee to coquetry — 
An errand-boy of hell, than rule the court 
Of whims, a king ; but love is destiny, 
Hast'ning from heart to heart with echo wings> 
Loading his courtier-angel train with vows. 

(Sings.) 

Love the coyful, love the joyful ; 

Onward through the world he speeds, 
With his golden bow and arrows, 

Hast'ning on his starry steeds. 

And his pastures are the sunset. 
Where his steeds enjoy their rest, 

As he journeys down a rainbow 
To the heaven in woman's breast» 



49 

Sees the kisses-goblet, sparkling 

Ton the ruby of her lips, 
Hastes the bosom's gentle swaying. 

And its God-like nectar sips. 

Sees a smile within a dimple, 
Beaming brightly as a sphere ; 

Culls it for a lover hopeful. 
Robes it in a welcome tear. 

Olimbs upon a raven ringlet. 

As a blush feasts on a smile ; 
Makes his couch beneath an eyelid. 
Broods his wings and rests awhile. 

(Rising.) 
Hark ! methinks I hear a weary footstep 
In the hall. Who's there — -a saint — a demon ? 
Speak. 

( Voice, without.) 

One of God's poor, to crave charity 
I come. 

(Enters.) 



&(y 



CARLTO^^ 



Well, Sir Mendicant, what sad tale 
To free thine heart. 



MENDICANT, Sitting. 

Give — give and God will bless. 

CARLTON. 

How know^est thou that?, 

MENDICANT. 

Charity is God, 
He works through means — the beggar's tear 

moveth 
His heart of w^orlds, and lavishly doth throw^ 
Support upon the haggard lap of w^ant. 
Beggar'd by the ills of life, upon God's arm 
I rest, nor dream of death from w^ant. Love 
To His name, will ever feed. Songs of praise 
That I give God, 'mid chill and storm, at feasts 
Of gathered crumbs, are offerings divine. 



51 

Humble my praise, but Heav'n doth deign to 

hear. 
Ton the quiet of your thoughts, I'd not 

intrude. 
Pale night o'er took me ere I found a couch, 
So hasteful I, my native hills to gain, 
And once again to slumber 'neath the stars 
That watched my boyhood well. (Pausing.) 

I go to die 
Amid the wrecks of my nativity. 
The world's cold heart will not deny a grave. 
Pardon, I crave — some cottage I supposed. 

CARLTON. 

Thou talk'st like one nourished 'mid better 

years. 
God gives, ofttimes the beggar's crumb to worth, 
To test the varied passions of the soul. 
The heart of earth, how chill ! No home hast 

thou, — 
No hearth distilleth its generous flame, 
Nor welcomes greet thee from love's lip — No 

hand 



52 

Of tenderness outstretch' d to press thy brow, 
Or soothe in bahns of love the fainting heart. 
No tender eye thy absence long to guard, 
Or tear to shed, when the pale tomb hath won 
The ruined temple of the soul. Wear rags. 
Thy pilgrim fate — in Heav'n the richest robes. 
My couch to make this night content I'll give. 



MENDICANT. 

I'm proud to be a jest for God, a piince 

Of silver hairs in courts of Want and 111. 

I sat with plenty, side a sunny hill. 

In days long since forgotten by a world. 

The streamlets sang within my daisy meads, 

And zephyrs rocked my wheaten plains with 

song. 
The prattling loves of heart and home rejoic'd 
A wearied sire with draughts of innocence. 
They stole the scattered silver from my locks, 
And prest their little cares upon my breast. 
But cruel Death hath culled them one by one 
To beautify God's coronal of love. ( Weej)s.) 



53 

I'll murmur not, none doeth right but Gocl. 
Blessings in swift succession follow tears. 
To poverty and wealth alike, God gives 
A tomb. Wilt thou but hear the tale of years ? 
Remember, though thy way be strew' d with 

ease, 
And promise lead thy soul to shrines of fame. 
The hour will come to drain life's goblet, 

crowmed 
With hopes and joy. I'll sing my song to thee. 

CARLTON. 

Ah ! sing my sire, a song portrays the heart. 
Music near sinned — 'tis sinless as our God, — 
'Tis swifter wing'd than prayer — a sooner balm. 

MENDICANT, s'lngS. 

My locks are silver' d now, 
Deep furrows line my brow — 
Hollowed my cheek with tears,. 
Feeble the walk of years. 



54 

I soon shall reach my goal, 
Lay down this Harp of soul 
Upon the tear wash'd shore, 
And live my youth once more. 

(Exit.) 

CARLTON, following. 

Why hast'nest thou ? Oh ! linger yet awhile. 
Tell that tale again. (Returni7ig.) 

He's gone, his footsteps 
Linger still, his words they ne'er can die. Years 
His locks have wove to silver threads, and deep 
Their foot-prints on his cheek , his harp of life 
Beats tremulous — its unheard melodies 
Are sung to lone and melancholy hours — 
His peaceful conscience sits within his breast. 
Lord of the beating heart. (Pausing) 

Alas ! my soul 
Denied a soothing draught of Heav'n. Alone, 
With thought, I see the sunset domes — turrets 
Of stars — fountains of galaxies — gateways 
Of suns, inlaid with priceless pearl in Heav'n. 
When 'mid the bustle, beating heart of trade, 



55 

Whose blood is gold, whose sinews paltry gain 

The dying multitude, I crave, unbar 

An oath, that Hell may worship, or madly 

Crucify all that's God's within my heart. 

Evil and good are warring in my breast, 

The present monitors of my being, 

E'en for the boundless empire of my soul. 

Where'er a shrine I rear, some pale fac'd sin 

The ofF'ring steals, and e'en when I attempt 

To pray, some seer of Pandemonium 

Hastens amen, or rounds each period 

With a sin. {Opens the casement.) 

Oh ! wert mine, I'd give the stars 
Those sheeny landscapes on yon fields of blue ; 
Yea, all the sunsets of the spheres array'd 
To clothe the bliss that seal'd my heart with 

God. 
I'll hope. What gift hath Hope ere gave. 

The Dawn 
Floats in a sea of gold, her argosies, — 
Her burning billows, whelm the starry isles. 
The moon, unwearied, with her twinkling train 
E'en veils her pallid cheek with fleecy mists. 



56 

The distant North, with golden arms outspread, 
To greet the bridegroom day. How great is 

God, 
To gild with Heav'en, this home of tombs and 

deatho 



SCENE V. 



A DRAWING ROOM— EYENING. 



ADA, sings to her guitar. 

I'd be a fairy, clad in pearls. 
Love's beaming eye and raven cnrls ; 
The stars my lovers, and the sea 
Unfold ber Naiad loves to me. 

(Enter Carlton.) 

ADA, rising. 

Welcome, her greeting heart, unfolds to thee ; 
No joy hath Eve without a social lay. 
To Hall of Moons, the lover Night doth haste— 
His cheek now prest among her woody curls ; 



58 

Love, whose wings a kiss, e'en sandal' d with 

smiles. 
Hath journeyed in the rolling chariot 
Of my heart. Ah ! a smile leaps on thy cheek. 
I'll weave it for love's morning robe. Smile on ; 
A smile is girlhood's lamp, the light to heav'n. 
Dost thou love ? 

CARLTON. Both sitting. 

The charmer, ofttimes, a thought 
Hath stole from my jeweled casket, when I've 
Met his angels. 

ADA. 

This day, o'erjoyed, I lit 
The page romantic with a smile, to read 
The bold chivalric Knight, that fearless woo'd 
The brawny hand of danger, and e'en kissed 
His keen Damascus blade, wdth oaths, his love 
To win, or die a hero of the heart. 
Hero's unknown, till woman gave the field 
Her heart, first twin'd the brow with glory's 
wreath, 



And strung the liarp of Troubadours of old. 
A patriot he, the crimson goblet 
Drains, and crowns with life, life's holiest vows. 
Love's martyrs roam empyreal meads — 
Their angels' song — their life, the loves of God. 
Love gives each a star, methinks, that valiant 
Crowns his conquest with a heart. 

CARLTON. 

Beauty 

Her story tells, and who, ah ! who denies. 
My ear in love — your lips the hai*p of hearts. 
The ear is e'en the bridegroom of the lips. 
Beautiful ! would ye call back again 
That age of Knights, steel-clad, to offer life 
'Pon the altar of a vow ? 'Tis but now 
And then your idol loves are worth a kick, 
Mucli less a bleeding heart. Our age, re- 
nown' d. 
Waltzes to the music of a guinea. 
Our Knights are clad in the richest vestments 
Of the mountain mine — e'en wove in fire 
looms,^ 



60 

Their breasts of fire — their brazen arms out- 
spread. 
Troubadours of an age whose songs are thought. 

ADA, scornfulhj. 

I never dream' d that thou could'st coldly scorn 

A hero's crown of hearts. No poet, thou, 

To crush the lyre of Knighthood 'neath your 

ire. 
Forget your prudish thoughts. Within the 

hall 
Of hoary years the lamp of love burns dim. 
Your smiles seem thread-bare now^skeletons 
Of thought! Oh! book-worm, gnawing out 

a grave 
Earlier than the eternal records 
Show in Heaven — had' st thou only laugh'd and 

lov'd. 



( Siiigs,) 

The lov'd and the beautiful stray 

O'er the meads where the streamlets play. 



61 

Their ringlets e'en swaying, 
Like cataracts playing, 
As they stray where the streamlets play. 

The loved and the beautiful sing 

With woodland harps, with flowers of spring. 
The red of the morning 
Their soft cheeks adorning, 

As they sing with flowers of the spring. 

CARLTON. 

Those strains renew — the Eve is giving ear — 
(Looking out icpon the eve.) 
The mistress Earth is calling up the moon; 
See, Ada, the waves from moony seas break 
Upon the strands of night. 

ADA. 

Let's trim a star 
With love, and o'er her billows sail for heav'n. 
Or twilight realms, Aurora's paradise ; 
Thou lovest song, but lovest not my loves. 
Poetic realms beyond thy wishless gaze. 



62 



CARLTON. 



Poetry herself is a biographer of God. 
With starry sandals^ o'er the dome of spheres 
She treads, her footprints Thought, e'en leap- 
ing 
With sunset lyre to music forth a song 
To God. When Earth upon her sheeny couch 
Reposed, ere Eden greeted Eve with flowers. 
She came and taught her anthems to the stars. 
The ocean's harp, with strings of calm and 

storm. 
She gave — 'pon the clouds, the gilded temples 
Of the storm, her rainbow lute, divinely 
Gemm'd, she press'd, to wak'e her lay of 

welcomes 
To the queenly calm — enraptured, she, who 
Penn'd a page of Heaven 'pon woman's cheek, 
And sealed it with a blush — for love's to sport 
Beneath, a ringlet bower, she rear'd. 

ADA. 

The poets, what? 0, tell. 



63 



CARLTON. 



Frail barques laden'd 
With pearls, chased to and fro, 'mid whelming 

surge, 
By cursed privateers, the critics — a hope 
Of Heav'n divine, whose burning brain ne'er 

sleeps, 
Whose heart, ne'er absent of a tear, that shake 
The vine of stars, trailing along yon blue. 
To brim the goblet at a worldling's feast, 
At last a tearless rest. 

ADA. 

I'd not live 
A poet, thus to serve the beautiful 
At the unfeeling banquets of a world. 

(Sings.) 

I'd be a Fairy, clad in pearls, 
Love's beaming eye and raven curls. 
The stars my lovers, and the sea. 
Her Naiad loves, bestows on me. 



64 

I'd seek the sun, aclowii the West, 
And pillow on her twilight breast ; 
I'd bid my lovers hie away, 
And crown Aurora, queen of day. 

(Enter Per sis.) 

PERSIS, dismayed. 

Ah! Carlton, art thou here? I feel regrets 
Pressing my heart with tears, that I've 

o'erstep'd 
The bounds of etiquette — I heard the voice 
Of Song, nor dream'd this night, loves banquet 

near — 
Forgive, and innocence my cause shall plead. 

CARLTON. 

Seek not excuse — your lips were never made 
To sip apologies, like nectared draughts. 
Excuse is falsehood's errand-boy. 

ADA. 

Persis, 
Oh ! happy me. O'erjoy'd I am to greet 



65 



Thy smile. A sleeping song, I just awoke, 

To fright a demon, lairing in his breast. 

His words are gracious with their consequence. 



PEKSIS. 

What thought, fire-wing'd, hath wak'd within 

your breast, 
Say, Carlton, tell. 

GAELTOX. 

No demon dare intrude 
Within my breast, my thoughts to shape with 

ill. 
Ada, forsooth, would serve, at Cupid's feast 
My heart — the Queen of Romance, e'en her 

guest ; 
Ada, as full of love, as Ocean e'en 
With his briny tears, as the heart of day 
Ceases to pulse, into her cheek of sky. 
Her blood of gold. (Pausing.) 

My thoughts are absolute. 



66 



PERSIS. 



What thoughts ? 



CARLTON. 

Life, Destiny, and God. 

PERSIS. 

Ah ! what 
Of destiny. 

CARLTON. 

A volume only read 



Of God. 



PERSIS. 

You love Ada. 

CARLTON. 

What is love ? 



67 

PERSIS. 

I've 

Found it, thus far, in beings sun and chill, 
A swift wing'd uncertainty. What hast tliou ? 

CARLTON. 

A goblet brimm'd with wine, the lips once 

press'd 
Upon its bauble crown, light the soul-lamps 
In the breast, to flicker, pale and dim 'round 
A feverish brain. 

ADA, gazing from the casement. 

Swiftly the stars are 
Wending round the shield of God. I'd be a star, 
The queen of Galaxies, enrobed in dawn — 
A wreath of Eden sunsets 'round my brow. 
And seated on my throne of Eve, I'd press 
The Pleiads to my breast, and kiss their lips 
With song. The moon, I'd woo, e'en where 

sunset 
Spreads her burning tresses o'er the sky, 



And learn my lovers' alphabets of stars. 

With Borealis chandeliers, I'd deck 

The North, and o'er my bridal couch, display 

The pm'ple clouds, e'en blossoming into gold. 

Stairways of hearts, I'd rear to Heav'n for Love, 

To climb and plume anew his wings of bliss. 

Song and flowers, poets of the Deity, 

O crown me, Queen of Stars. (Sitting.) 



PERSIS. 



Oh ! your heart seems 
Toss'd by madly raving love, o'er seas, that 
Stretch their billowy breasts of blue beyond 
The outmost star. Too frail an argosy 
Is love, to freight with varied hopes of life ; 
Once 'mid the shoals, the surges crave a feast. 
Shadows are we, climbing our fancies up, 
To garner joys — nought real save our God. 
A key I'd rather hold the gate of hearts 
To ope, and thus might read life's blotted page. 
Words that leap the lips, are not the preacher 
Heart. Ah ! the lips prove false, the heart 
ne'er can. {Fausing.) 



69 

I had a lover once, manly as heart 
Could make, perfected in soft breathing words. 
Wlio mann'd my love in calms of sweetest youth, 
And o'er a dimple sea of rosy smiles, 
E'en fed by gladsome rivulets of tears 
That ran 'side the Sinai of thought — he 
Came to rest within the haven of hearts ; 
Told me tales of promise, of cottage home 
Peering from its nest of clustered woodbine ; 
The future, with its garland loves, the joys 
That w^ould arise along our bridal walks, 
Of evening rambles side the laughing rills. 
Our hearts seemed linked in one. Oh ! I loved 

him 
As a mother doth her immortal gem. 
That God loan'd to her heart, to nestle 'neath 
Her smiles in robes of innocence, sleeping 
With a kiss of His, a prayer upon its 
Sinless cheek. First love, never can expire — • 
The holiest worshiper at the shrine 
Of memories, — it clwelleth with our tears. 
Ah ! none the bitter cup can taste alike. 
When ev'ry altar in my breast was crown'd 



70 

With vows, envious Fate my tend'rest shrine 
O'ertnrnecl. (Weeps.) 

Ah ! my lover sad, forgetful 
Of his virtue shield, a feast of Bacchus 
Join'd, yea, quafF'd his hellish draught, till 

madness 
Brimm'd the goblet of his thought. His spirit 
Leap'd from its burning prison-house of clay* 
Thus fell another citadel of God. 



(Sings.) 

When our joys are dearest, 
Cometh the chills. 

When the storms are nearest, 
We hear the rills, 

And a thousand streams 

From the hills and plains, 
Awaking. 



Morn, that opes the clearest 
Her sunny halls, 



71 

E'en may find them drearest 

With misty palls, 
E'er with golden hands, 
Closed by angel bands. 

Forsaking. 

ADA. 

Forget, forget your tears. Your tale I've heard 
As oft as twilight plumes her burning wing. 
Such dreams, away, from mem'ry's hallowed 

shrine. 
Nor give a tear, wert Heav'n within its walls 
Of crystal. Love again, to find a cure. 

CARLTON. 

No ear the w^orld, to hear a tale of ills — - 
We live, we die, and memory forgets. 
Time can't weep, alas ! 'tis ever dying, 
Else we'd have a tear. (Pausi?ig.) 

Hours are hast'ning on 
To knell a requiem, at their sister's 
Burial — who, a weeper at my tomb. 



SCENE VI. 



Carlton, walking among the Mountains, 
Morning. 



CARLTON. 

The golden sea of trade I've fled, where stocks 
And merchandize are Grods, and sinful Gain 
Canonicled ; the Mammon creed proclaims — 
Give Mammon gold, and God divine, the pence. 
My God coins love, in the celestial mint. 
Yea, stamps his brow upon its priceless cheek. 
Ah ! gold, not God, that makes a man — the man. 
Yon spires, oh ! Soul, their brazen arms uplift, 
To ward the anger of a Diety. 

(Sitting ^neath an oak.) 



73 

I'll drain the goblet of my mountain loves, 
As Zephyrs tune their leafy lyres with song. 
The whispering w^oocllancls my praise awake. 
Ah ! calm hath led the Zephyr to her shrine, 
Robed in the balmy breath of Violets. 
The oaks e'en seem at prayer — their acorn lips 
Are oped, to kiss God's cheek, the morn. 

(Pausing,) 
Ye hills, 
Dame Nature's throne, around ye bow sublime. 
The statel}^ grandeur of the forest court, 
Robed in the vestments of the queenly Spring, 
Where herds and flocks their burning breasts, 

supply 
With draughts of cool refreshing shade, or 

quaff 
Thy pebbl'd goblets, crown' d with honeyed 

sweets. 
Where lambkins hold their gaily dance, or taste 
The milky verdure of thy breast. The chant 
Of rivulets, my ear doth greet. I would 
A rivulet I wert, attired in drops 
Of crystal's pure, and each with rainbow heart, 



74 

Leaping some craggy breast, mj bauble train 
Attendant near. -I'd gild with sunny gems 
My pathway on. Wearied, I'd bind my veil 
Of mists around my crystal curls, and sleep 
Awhile. (A stranger approaches leoAing a child,) 
Some one approaches. {Rising.) 

Who's there? say, 
Stranger wdiy thy rapid tread. 



STKAXGER. 



CARLTON. 



Who are you 



A something, I know not what — a mortal 
Called — and wdiat of 3^ou, sir '? 



STRAKGER. 

A son of toil, 
Since boyhood's dawn, my humble meal I've 

shar'd 
At Labor's board — great sweat-drops on my 

brow — 
Industry's gladd'ning tears, I call them, sir, 



75 

Or labor's jewelry — furrow my fields, 
That Nature's ample breast may yield her stores 
Of wheaten pearls. My sheafy crown I ne'er 
Would give to rule o'er earth's domain, a king. 
Nature's Peers and Dukes hold their court in 

fields. 
With roving herds and bleating flocks, or haste 
Their courtier plow-train on. 

CARLTON. 

The peasant gives 
To thought her wings to soar beyond a spire, 
Or read the price of stocks on 'change, filling 
The soul with guinea-gods. 

STRANGER. 

The plough o'erturns 
A page of God at every furrow. 
And his thoughts therefrom, come up and 

blossom, 
Unletter'd in the ease of life ; but oh ! 
I've learn'd the way of sinless quietude. 



76 

I pray, and since my boyhood's hour I've 

pray'd, 
Nor lost have I a v^heaten sheaf thereby. 
Amid my toils I sing, my weaving fields 
Eespond, and quicker leaps my heart for God ; 
And when the down on smiling Summer's cheek, 
Complete with balms, with fading blush 

o'erspread 
The lords of toil, their sun-kiss'd breasts 

unbare. 
And haste their trophies on to the harvest 
Citadel. 

CARLTON. 

Nature' by Art was woo'd, when 
This lone sphere was full of loves, nor found he 
E'en a lovlier breast, whereon his cheek 
To press. God linked their hearts in one, 

beside 
His throne of suns, and sealed their plighted 

vows 
With His own reverent heart. The sunset 
Wove their bridal robes in her golden loom, 



And the night looiiM her jewehy. Joyful, 
A bridal gift the bridegroom gave his L,ve — 
An anvil, loom, and printing press. She took 
The gifts, and, smiling, press'd them to her 

breast, 
And, in return, a crystal curl bestow'd 
That sported on her cheek, a waterfall. 
Their giant sons o'erleap the briny chain 
That Neptune madly stretch'd from pole to 

pole 
O'er iron threads they haste along, that bind 
The wearied ocean's surge with western calms. 

STRAXGER. 

Ambitious, then, to learn of God ? 

CARLTON. 

I once 
Ambitious was to win a name with song, 
And rear an homage in the hearts of men ; 
But in my flight, a starry lyre to gain, 
Beside the throne of God I rush'd, without 
A reverent heart. Ambition mocketh 



78 

God, so hastefiil its wings to brood o'er Fame's 
Ephemeral breast. Aaibition hath no 
Shield the tempted heart to guard — no God 
But anxious Hope — its Heav'n a name, a name. 
Ambition, e'en her lyre of imagery 
Awakes, and sings in syren strains, her land — 
Her land, where sunset surges break and sweep 
A shore of lutes ; where evening's purple cheek 
Pillows on the bosom of a song — where 
Poetic vines upon a starry trellis 
Creep and twine, luscious with their clust'ring 

gems ; 
Where heroes goblets quaff, of human liearts. 
And thus allured, I strive my thoughts to deck 
In blossoms, such as rosy morning strews 
Upon the tomb of night. Alas ! I toil — 
A tearless grave I'll crave — at last to win. 
Beside the drear unknown, 

(Smgs.) 

We are mortals, ever hoping, 
'Mid earth's bustle and its strife, 

To imprint one thought-gem, beaming 
On the wasting page of life. 



79 

"When my broken harp lies lowly, 

'Side the rest, I joyful crave, 
Some lov'd one may hear its echo, 

Living still, above my grave. 

I'd give my harp, 
My hope, to wear the ease thy bosom bears. 

STRANGER. 

Bright stars nor gold, can't purchase what is 

God's— 
AVithout my God, no comfort hath the soul. 

CARLTOX. 

God, that I were like thee, free to roam 
The craggy steep, whose mossy locks, inwove 
With ivy, shield the blast from granite age. 
Or bow with flowers beside the shrine of morn. 
With gems of night upon their rev'rent lips. 
And plead with God. (Fausing.) 

"What am I '? Discordant 
Strino- ill the sfreat universe of soul. 



80 

{Adclressing the Child,} 



Say, 
Little Clierab, what is God? 



CHILD. 

Stars and flowers, — 



This world and the next. 



CARLTON. 

Can we see God? 

CHILD. 

I 



See His rohes in life ; but when I die, I'll 
See His lordly brow, and slumber on His 
Breast. 



CARLTON. 



Innocence hath an angel's tongue. 
Another gem art thou, my beautiful ^ 



81 

'Pon the life-tliread of soul pearls — thy cheek 

just 
Moulded into rosy symmetry, 'neatli 
The soft pressure of God's hand — the azure - 
Of an Heavenly dawn 'round tlnne eyelids 

clino". 
Childhood is Heaven in miniature — ■ 
The fleeting paradise of a moment — 
Sinless twilight of immortality. 
God's beautiful. {Embraces the child.) 

The dimples on thy cheeks, 
My love, those tiny vales of smiles, where 

loves. 
To mirror in thine eye, convene, or cull 
Their pearls. I would that I again were 

young, 
A sinless being on my mother's breast, 
Enrobed in the divinity of tears, 
That prayer unbosoms for the faithful soul. 
Alas ! I feel the pressure of the years, — 
My cheeks are falling in ; mine eyes hast'ning 
'Neath the arching walls of thought, and my 

brow 



82 

With scars is lin'cl; amid my locks tlie sm'ge 
Of Time scatters his silver sands. 

( Turniug to the stranger.) 
Once we're 
Gold in castles 'mong the stars ; then silver, 
'Mid the thorns and tears ; next iron, heavy 
With our ills, a drudgery of care ; last 
Dross — the banquet of a grave. 



STRANGER. 

Ah ! Pilgrim, 
Thy heart a mine of Godly gems unfolds : 
Give each to God as trophies of the soul. 
Eevv^ards, sir, are the crov^ns of diligence. 
God's treasury is full of them. No gifts 
Of God are lost. Within my breast I feel 
A ceaseless beaming pearl — a ray divine — 
Lighting conscience on to Deity. Blest 
Be the soul that w^orketh his thoughts for God. 
Thoughts are the minstrelsy of our being. 
Give God their melody. A song, my child. 



83 

CHILD sings. 

Winds are dancing, -. 
Winds are prancing, 
With their steeds of sunny beams, 
Flying hither, 
Flying thither, 
Rippling garments of the streams 
Hither straying, 
Thither playing. 
With sweet Flora's sisterhood, 
'Side the altars of the wood : 
Singing dirges 

With the pines. 
Swaying gently 
Curls of vines. 



SCENE VII. 
CARLTON alone hi his Chamher 



EVENING. 



CAE.LTON. 



Another day hatli fled — the fall of night 

Rests o'er its golden tomb. Eternity 

Ne'er can bind its pale cheek with gold again. 

Eternity — thou illimitable — 

Unread by sage, by poet's lyre unsung, 

Where God's soul-barques ride forever — ever, 

On, {Pausing.) 

Forever, the horoloo;e of God. 



85 

Oil! my coul, a wortliless liope, set iiiid 

spheres 
Of life ; a goblet brimming with a curse ; 
Still known of God, thy natal day rehearse, — 
O, tell the prelude of thy destiny ! 
Wert thou O, Soul ! unrest — a wanderer. 
For countless ages, erst thou a dwelling 
Made of sands, to ramble amid the ills 
And pains ? The Infinite, methinks, at His 
Own coronation, crowned with worlds on 

worlds. 
The King of Gods ordained that Souls should 

brood 
Awhile their swift electric wings, and walk 
In clayey robes this gleaming spheric gem. 
Thought-pearls to gather for immortal crowns, 
And, wearied, cast their tatter' d robes aside 
To journey onw^ard — on, to brighter worlds. 
And nearer Deity. ( WalMng hastily.) 

Ah ! my footsteps 
"With graves are wall'd — spectres of Death my 

thoughts 
Embrace — a curse with ire would arm my soul, 



86 

And pave with wrecks of Hope existence e'en. 

My life, a biography on the sands, 

An echo, dying on the hoary breast 

Of Time. Hark ! some one approaches. 

{Enter Horace.) 

HORACE. 

Carlton, 
How moves the world with thee? {Sitting.) 

CARLTON. 

I'm far away 
From thoughts of Earth : a world, within my 

breast. 
On varied hopes is pois'd — without a star. 
One beam from some bright orb I strive to win, 
Alas ! to wake a reverent verdure 
In my heart. I'm striving to solve my soul, 
From whence it leap'd immortal into dust, 
And rear'd a temple for the preacher, Thought. 
But Reason, at my eftbrts, lost, enraged — 



87 



My brain with evil-ey'd conjectures crown' d. 
A creed I crave, to bind my soul to God. 
His scourge, my tears hath drain'd. 



HORACE. 



Soul is unread, 
A God incarcerated in the heart, 
A God in God, a God revering God. 
Thou fool, to crucify your youthful prime. 
The goblet of to-day is at our lips, 
Wreath'd with a joy — to-morrow is a tomb. 
A waltz is love, wifch Music's sandals on. 
Tripping o'er the weariness of hours. 'T would 
Bear your soul above the puny stretch 
Of creeds. 

(Sings.) 

Oh ! the kiss by Beauty given. 
Blending of this world and Heaven — 
The errand-boy of affection, 
God in feature and complexion, 
Tripping, tripping, 



88 

Silent as a sleeping spliene ; 

Vv^liere Lives' sipping 
Goblets of a welcome tear. 

Love caressing, 

Pressing, pressing 
Honey into ruby vases, 
Kosy climjDles, coucli of Graces. 

CARLTON. 

Horace, you're mad, you're mad, or else 
Your talk belies — a kiss, forsooth! — Oh ! fool, 
Is Heav'n alone for love-cracked brains ? 

{Paus'uig.) 
Ah ! thought, 
A stranger to your heart of gossamer ; 
Gods ! of what wretched stuff are some souls 

made ! 
A bauble tinsel'd with a rainbow's cheek. 

[Fassionatehj turns to Horace.) 
Ah ! comest thou to slay me with your scorn ? 
Demons imaginary, less cruel 
Than the real. Give comfort if thou cans't. 
If one — make silence your chiefest virtue. 



89 



HORACE, {.'<cornJ'//lli/.) 

Go kiss a Dogma's cheek, aye, bind a string 
Of creeds around the midnight of your soul, 
And call them Gods, divinities, new Faiths, 
The garner'd of selfish orthodoxies, 
Swarming with hypocrites, your hive of creeds, 
Yea, countless as the starry boulders that 
Lie irregular on the meads of Heaven. 
Each day a thought some hoary sinner steals. 
With sanctimonious smile, enrobes it 
With a prayer, e'en boastful of his triumph, 
With a worshiper. {Pausing.) 

Methinks the Triune 
God ne'er receives at his eternal courts 
A soul whose passport is but one idea. 
My heart doth loathe thy haggard brow to read, 
Deep scarr'd with the sword of the chieftain 

Thought. 
Thy cheeks are sculptur'd into deathly tombs — 
Ah ! thine eyes circled with Consumption's tinge. 
Oh ! thrice impious thou, to rear a grave 
As buds of promise cluster on life's bough. 
Each soul creates its demon. 



90 



CARLTON. 



No solace 
Thou ! As Pain sits on the brow, lashing 
His feverish steeds across the brain, no 
Gentler balm than whisper cloth'd in love : 
Love on the lips, the bow upon the cloud. 
My heart a sea of wrecks — no sun — no star ; 
Behind the horizon of a tomb they 
Kest, but ah ! their twilight lingereth still 
Beside the shrine of memories. A rest 
Within some queenly solitude I crave. 

(Pausijig.) 
Hast thou no God whereon to pillow life. 
When feverish panting for Heav'nly dawn, 
To robe your heart in love beyond a day? 
A love that lives the life-time of a God — 
One ceaseless round of bridal hours ? Itself 
A God, hath woo'd and won a Deity ! 
Hast thou e'er heard the trembling voice of 

age. 
Bending beneath a crown of silver years, 
At prayer unmoved ? Hast thou in life ne'er 
felt 



91 

The solace of angel-guardians near? 
Angels there are, that wing our ev'ry thought 
To God — angels that once were loves on 
Earth! 



HORACE. 

Strive not in placid deeps to moor your soul, 
While life's deep ocean boils beneath your feet. 
Graves and sighs its surges are. The lightnings 
Bend their bows of lire in their citadels 
Of clouds. A storm for every calm doth haste. 
Our life its own existence gilds or glooms ; 
Drink joys or ills — their banquet halls are op'd ; 
Cull tears or smiles — the world o'erflows with 

both. 
With sunshine o'er the breast of day I'll haste, 
Nor fear the night without a starry surge. 
To sweep my barque of hope to ports of joy. 
Take hours, the moments e'en, rear a structure 
High turreted with Hopes^within, complete 
A shrine for love and joy — an orchestra 
Of song, yea, make them all of jubilee. 
Gateways the moments are, that ope to Heav'n 



92 

Or rear a hell within the burning breast. 
Love — love — love, Heav'ns chorister in the 
heart. 



(Sings,) 

Sweetly pillow'd let me sleep, 

Where the heart's bright fountains leap, 

And where loves their vigils keep. 

Where bright sunsets ever rest, 
Bosom'd on the golden V\^est, 
Evening's ringlets on their breast. 

Deep embower'd with twilight beams, 
'Side the glowing sunset streams, 
Gods ! the love-song of ray dreams. 



One so saintly in her mien, 
Pride of the flower -ts' Queen, 
E'en enrobed in starry sheen. 



93 

Born where brook and streamlet purls, 
Bounding with their crystal curls, 
Sister of the Pleiade worlds. 

To my couch she hastes along, 
On the wings of love and song; 
Smiles the twilight's hour prolong. 

Her eyes, like a starry gem 
Gleaming in Night's diadem, 
Soul-fires kindle up in them. 

E'en her heart with music trips, 
And the rainbow's goblet sips ; 
Ruddy cheek and ruby lips ; 

Ton my cheek a seal she sets. 
Wreaths my brow with violets, 
Nor a gift of heart forgets. 

Lips, the petals of her heart. 

Odors of a kiss impart. 

And of song, the queenly mart. 



94 



CARLTON. 



OhJ let red-hot passions melt the ingots 
Of your soul, to the structure of a thought. 
Hast conscience, that unseen page, the record 
Of each day's deeds, no voice to chide thy life, 
Deluded, frenzied, by worldly draughts, till 
Thy heart e'en breaths a dirge of coming wo? 

HORACE. 

Conscience, methinks, is but a hidden sun, 
That rounds the cycle of the beating heart. 
When burning 'pon the empire of the soul, 
A kiss of Bacchus wakes a zephyr there. 

{Scojiifulhj.) 
E'en conscience is made the armor-bearer 
Of your creeds, a servant in the work-shop 
Of our wills. Thou, an iceberg manned with 
gloom. (Exit.) 

CARLTON. 

Alone ao-ain, and thus I'd rather be, 



95 

Than lose a thought or pave the hours with 

speech, 
More worthless than the praise of hypocrites. 
God is cared as little for as poets. 
What is man, Oh ! God ? A book of fables 
In the closet-life ? Echo of thyself. 
Here comes one imag'd like a man, forsooth. 
To mar, Oh ! God, thy dazzling crowai of 

thought. 
With thrusts of Bacchus spears, or, impious, 
Mocks thy finger tracing love 'pon the heart. 
Alas ! that breast forgot, where lightnings whet 
Their burning sw^ords, or haste their fiery steeds, 
My reason dimly burns. (Pausing.) 

Reason, wdiat's that ? 
A garment of our walls. One doubt revives 
A sleeping sister. {Hastily opens the casement.) 

Oh ! my burning brain, 
Kindled with doubts. Alas ! my hopes have fled. 

( Gazing at tlie stars.) 
Some shade, imperious, o'er starry meads 
Doth haste. Oil ! Ghost, with eye of tombs 

be gone "? 



96 

Ah ! there, a star it snatches from the robe 
Of gems. I'll flee — ah ! whither shall I flee? 
Coward ! No, no ! I'll shield me with the moon, 
And war the Ghostling on the plains of night ! 

{Pausing.) 
My thoughts will press a madness on my brain. 
One smile of God, 'tis all I crave. Alas ! 
With me, all Ghostdom seems at war. I'll flee 
And arm my soul with sleep. 



SCENE VIII. 

'CARLTON AND HELEN WALKING IN A FOREST-MORNING. 
HELEN. 

See morn, lier gate of suns hath op'd ancl spread 
O'er Nature's landscape-breast, her robes of gold, 
For God thereon to walk, his loves to bless. 
Ah ! see yon mount, fan- Nature's hoary seer. 
Prophetic robed in God's reviving smile. 

{Sings, both sitting ^neath cm oak.) 

The morning surge 

Yon mountain whelms. 

And gilds anew 
His crown of elms. 



98 

His furrow' d cheek,,- 

His look profound. 
Proclaim Earth young, 

When he was crown'd* 

Around him bow 

The maiden hills ; 
And string for him 

Their harp of rills. 

His veins my love 

Are rivulets ; 
And e'en his locks 

Are violets. 

When winter weaves 

Her pall of gloom ,- 
He only w^eeps 

'Side Flora's tomb. 

Carlton ! why so sad ? No smile this morn hatb 
Lit her lamp of cheek, but, pensive, sittest 
Thou, like Luna pale, 'ueath the wing of storm. 



99 



CARLTON. 

A dream hangs weighty on my brain. 

HELEN. 

Methinks 
Our dreams are sister angels, treading 
The courts of thought, as rest anew attunes 
Life's wearied minstrel-heart. If godly, they 
The mystic veil uplift for beings e'en 
With spirit-loves to talk awhile, or gaze 
'Pon the banquet-halls of life's hereafter. 
If evil, they, some lute of demons fright 
The heart within its clayey citadel 
To quicker tread. 0, tell me of thy dreams. 

CARLTON. 

I dream' d as I was sitting in a bower 
Of jasmine, e'en with lillies interwove, 
The sunset closing up their lips with dews, 
Ne'er to ope again 'side their grassy tomb, 
With evening's kiss upon my care-worn cheek, 



100 

Bright futures holding their torch of glory 
Around the saintly altars of my thought, 
An angel winged with softness of a bliss, 
Her robe of twilight, fring'd with rainbows 

seem'd. 
E'en studded o'er with gems of burning sheen. 
Like stars that pave the walks of Deity, 
Hast'ning the rest of wearied spheres to balm. 
Beside me rev'rent sat. Her eye intent, 
Beam'd like the natal twinkle of a star. 
In features all — a Heav'n of soothing love. 
And thus she spake : — " Mortal, since being's 

dawn, 
I've watched o'er thy devious way, to train 
Thy thoughts above a worldly revery. 
Ah ! vainly strove around thine heart to twine 
Some faith-gems, seals of an eternal bliss. 
My w^ork complete. Redemption pleads no 

more, 
Forgiveness, now there's none. I'll haste to 

God. 
No watchful angels linger round despair. 
Mortal farewell — farewell." 



101 

I gaz'd in vain, 
The godly spirit fled. No holy calms 
Can o'er me steal, I cried. No angel bands 
Will gather more, 'side evening's shrine of 

moons 
To whisper, God is love. 

With terrors grim, 
My soul was lash'd — pale Horror came and 

mock'd 

My quiv'ring brain. In agony I cried, 

Kedemption pleads no more, and I am lost. 

Echo answered, lost. 

Ah ! I tried to weep. 

But tears my burning cheek refused to quencli 

Or cool the madd'ning soul. I tried to I3ray, 

But fast my lips were bound with chains of 

Hell, 
And all the sins of life thrust in my heart, 

Their javelins of fire. 

I thought of God — 

And yearn'd my heart once more His name to 

call; 

But echo'd in my ear the angel's words, 

*' Forgiveness, now there's none." 



102 

Pale skeletons 
Of hours, of murder'd hours, now gnmly leap'd 
From darkness, throne of tombs, fast spreading 

wide 
Her murky folds, unting'd with sunny lips, 
Before the portals of the mind, and e'en 
Their deathly fingers pointed to the great 
Dial-plate of centuries, set 'mid worlds 
That seemed to gather pallors from the dead. 
An angel sat upon the dial, clad 
In robes of fire, that e'en would pale the sun. 
Upon his brow, a crown of years display' d, 
Thick set with gems as sheeny walk of moons. 
And watch'd the flaming index as it roll'd. 
Yea, noiseless as the tread of Deity. 
I sought to flee — my limbs were chill'd — cold 

drops 
Of blood ooz'd from my fever'd brow — my 

heart 
Throbb'd, as if to rend her sinewy chain. 
I vainly strove to close my eyes on scenes 
That lit my brain with burning agonies. 
Ah ! then a voice that seem'd like wails of woe, 



103 

Cried with a curse : no more rest forever. 

No rest, I sighed — no soothing wing of sleep 

To bower my feverish brain again— 

No dreams of love to pillow on my cheek. 

Suddenly, a light more glorious than 

Were all the stars in love's embrace, their 

cheeks 
With burning lips impressed, encircled wide 
The jewel'd dome of Earth. 

From the halo, 
Yea, brighter far than summer's rainbow ring. 
Or trains of summer eves, an angel leap'd 
The starry gates, and 'pon the dial sate 
With Time. Her robes were wove in Glory's 

loom. 
While the angel sate, his eye Df fire fixed 
Intent on seas of worlds that swept the shores 
Of Heav'n — the great bell, eternity, 
That hung beneath the dial, and that chimed 
With anthems of the stars, at Creation's 
Holiday, knell' d the solemn dirge of worlds. 
Oh ! what a knell — the knell, the knell of 

time ] 



104 

All ! Echo bore the piercing dirge from sphere 
To sphere. The stars, affrighted, veil'd their 

cheeks. 
Ere Echo sought the drear chaotic breast, 
Its errand life complete, Time cried, my work 
Is done — and sank within a tomb of fire, 
Gilding her pathway, like a meteor, 
With tears of gold. 

The angel that with Time 
Had sate within a cloud of fire, with voice 
Of thunder cried — " Ye worlds, to judgment 

come! " 
Earthquakes unbound, did ope their madd'ning 

jaws, 
And lightnings lash'd the earth with flaming 

scourge ; 
Comets,. with their fiery swords, thrust down 

the stars. 
The dust I sate upon seemed to attire 
Itself into human form. Ah ! the graves 
Of ages swiftly op'd their flinty breasts, 
And myriads burst the chain of death, — yea, 
Fled, with garments whiter than King Winter 



105 

Wears on his throne of ice, o'er crystal arch, 
That spann'd the unfathom'd deep of chaos, 
Guarded by legions of the beautiful, 
Beyond my gaze. 

One piercing wail broke forth. 
As if a tongue each sand possessed : " Time is 
O'er, — time is o'er !" My soul e'en mocked 

the strain — 
No longer hope, to plead with God, I cried, — 
One moment more — ^one moment more, Oh 

God ! 
Forgotten groups were standing near ; they 

cursed. 
They raved, and madly sought the earth- 
quake's jaws, 
Or call'd in vain for lightning steeds to haste 
And crush their never-ending misery. 
Burning with fell despair, I dar'd again 
To look — what glory beam'd !— were every 

star 
A God, 'twould shame them all, that scene of 

scenes 
To unfold. 



106 

' A temple of suns arose, 
And lit the vasty chaos with its beams. 
Beside it, countless hosts of seraphs stood. 
Each with burning shield ; and angels attired 
In robes, e'en dyed in bliss, with golden 

spears, 
That like a boundless sea of tapers seem'd. 
A cross of gold arose, mantled in flame, 
Guarded by seraph bands, in liveries 
Of spotless white. Legions of earth 
And sister spheres rushed to embrace it, there, 
'Mid welcome songs and anthems, e'en unsung 
Before ; and oh ! each was crowned an angel. 
I thought to leap the deep chaotic breast, 
And reverent of God, my pardon crave. 
Alas ! a strain, my trembling thoughts re- 

vok'd— 

Forgiveness — now there's none : 
With God's Eternal Son 

She resteth now. 
Her holy work is o'er, 
She pleads with tears no more, 



107 

Nor bares her brow 
To scoffs or injury, 
But one Gethsemane. 

Were this lone home of spirit bound in chains 
Of red-hot steel, compared, 'twere nought to 

hear 
But one Gethsemane. 

I dar'd again 
To gaze — the stars were gone — -the moon was 

pale 
With blood, and the sun seem'd like a charred 

w^orld 
On the void of nothingness. Mountains hoar 
With age, whose brows the glacier crown had 

worn. 
Lit the fun'ral pyre of Earth, yea thunders 
Mocked the dying agonies of a sphere ; 
Alas ! alas ! to God, I vainly strove 
To cry, 'mid the biting stings of conscience. 
And the serpent-folds of sin around me 
Creeping. On death, I called to ease my 

pangs; 



108 

A voice from the eteriuil gloom repliedy 
No more death, though ever, ever dymg. 
Suddenly an arm with swift-winged lightning:^ 
Around its sinews leaping, encircled 
Earth ; and, ere a thought my breast illum'd. 
This spheric gem, upon whose cheek yon sun^ 
Hath press'd her summer lips, had sank beside 
The tomb of nothingness, shrouded in fire. 
The moon followed earth to her sepulchre, 
Alone. 

Alas ! with no earth to grasp, I 
Lay, a lone speck — a being still unknown 
Of God, on the yawning breast of Chaos ; 
Lightnings encircled me, and hied me on 
With their fiery steeds away, aw^ay, 
From the eternal summer-dawn of Heaven. 
A sudden conciousnesss startled me — I 
Woke, and felt the tread of life's sentinel 
Within, hast'ning his rounds 'pon the secret 
Battlements. Stars were waltzing with the 

moon, 
And e'en the flowers had blush'd themselves 

to rest 



109 

Army'd in bridal gems their loves to greet, 
When Heav'n woke morn to crown the East, 
of God. 



HE LEX. 

Indeed a dream ! some demon bold thy 

thoughts 
Hath coined, to currency of Gehenna, 
Or 'round thy couch its darksome prelude 
Told. Hug not, the phantoms of dreary hours 
That madly strive w^ith ill to torture rest; 
The birth-place of a thought too lordly, e'en, 
To w^ear for hate the semblance of a gloom. 
Mind 'pon the cheek her faithful mirror holds ; 
Ah! yours seems sculptured by the hand of 

Gloom. 
A ghostly pallor broods wdiere love might 

dw^ell 
Entranced, or robe her rest, with sinless smiles. 
We'll talk of day, one feeble blushing ray, 
Reflected from the shield of Deitv. 



110 



CARLTON. 



Her gold winged consorts, ne'er can bring, I 

ween, 
A calm to madd'ning tempests of the soul ; 
Thoughts doth scourge my brain — moments 

e'en conspire 
To darken hope — suspense my fickle foe — 
Life's bounded by a hemisphere of ill ; 
Ah ! once, a love I hail'd, but ere my thought 
Could render homage to its Heavenly glow, 
Or wake devotion's prayer within my heart, 
Ah ! I wept its burial in the tomb 
Of storm, palled with the lightnings burning 

wing. 
O, sing my heart with love — 'tis cold and sad. 
An iceberg drifting for a sunny sea, 
Chilling its onward way. 



HELEN. 



I'd wake 



Ill 

My heart for tliee, were anthems there well 

worth 
The list'ning ear. (Pointing to a rinulet.) 

Nature's a song of God, 
An anthem in the orchestra of worlds. 

(Sings.) 

Nature cheerful, 

Never tearful ; 

Ever sending 

Praise unending. 
From her breast of purling rills 
Silver strings in lyre of hills. 
Touch' d by the sunny hand of hours 
At the w^altzes of the flowers ; 
Waking songs of rev' rent praise 
To the queen of summer days. 
On her throne of clover-sheaves 
Robed in buds and silky leaves, 

Smiling, smiling. 

Hours beguiling. 
With her songs of joy and glee 
And her countless minstrelsy. 



112 



CARLTON. 



Oh ! Sing again — the forest sure will waltz, 
The brooks their harps with sunbeams strung, 

will rest 
Upon the sands those strains, renew' d to feel. 
Yon hill etranc'd, hath op'd its granite ear. 
Fondling the echo on its craggy breast. 



HELEN. 



Your flattery is broad and beautiful ; 

Too oft it rules the heart ; 'tis not of Heaven, 

But cometli only for our consequence. 

Her gentle way might win an angel's crow^n 

Were crowns within the gift of selfishness. 

(Pmtsing.) 
Oh ! see the forests draped in changeful blush, 
Their silky garments wove in Nature's loom. 
By the unseen hand of God ! Sisterhoods 
Of Oaks and bands of Hazel round complete 
This miniature of the better land. 
On Nature's page, our changing life we read. 
Valleys sleeping in their mountain cradles. 



113 

Lull'd to their sleep with lullabies of rills, 
With garlands o'er their sunny bosoms spread; 
Waiting impatient for the rising sun, 
That kisses first their elder brothers' cheeks, 
The hills, sweet childhood's sinless hour, por- 
trays. 
The mountains hoary with their wintry locks. 
With icy fingers, firmly clasp'd around 
Their granite hearts — their lute of rills forgot 
V^^ithin the halls of ice — the sullen tomb. 
Carlton, give ear to dulcet strains and song 
That woodlands raise, as summer wooes the 

year, 
And spreads her nuptial couch in sunset groves, 
Ere twilight wakes a star upon her breast. 
To gild her couch of sunny down. Sit thou 
A guest at her marriage feast, as the flowers 
Their petall'd ringlets shake, in joyous waltz 
With evening zephyrs — their lips unfold. 
Of nectared balm, for loves to bosom on. 

{Sings.) 
God hath gemm'd this world with glory, 



114 

Set it in a gilded frame, 
Rob'd the landscape with his garments, 
Glory, glory to His name ! 

As the sun, all pale and weary, 
Seeks his golden couch of rest, 

Night unfolds her starry eyelids, 
Raven ringlets on her breast. 

Wake your soul to Nature's music. 
Cast aside your tomhy shroud ; 

Lightnings lead the storm in battle. 
For the crown upon the cloud. 

Action is the song of Nature, 
Action sings tlie rolling spheres ; 

Thought's the crown, immortal, given 
To the workers 'mid the years. 



SCENE IX, 



ROOM IN A CITY— MORNING. 



CARLTON, alone. 



Oh ! Eartli, in stars enrob'd, — a gem — a tomb, 
The palace of the skull-crown' d King, — work- 
shop 
Of souls — a feature of the Deity, 
Forget — forget, thy march o'er sheeny paths, 
Nor let the sable pall of midnight gloom 
O'erspread thy cheek of hills again ! 

I've bowed. 
Oh ! Earth, beside thine Alpine sons, sublime, 
Cloth'd in the granite vestments of thy loom. 
Nor crav'd a gem from out their crystal crowns. 

(Pausing.) 



116 



Bind, bind, Oh ! Earth, the night with chains of 

dawn, 
Nor let the lakelets sleep upon a couch 
Of moons again — forbid a blush of stars 
To pale the rosy cheek of day. Night arms 
The demon of my soul with swords of ire. 
Fool that I am, — thy thousand burning eyes, 
Oh ! Night, I'll love, though soul-fiends wake 

their lair. 

( Gazing tipon the passing multitude.) 
How hasteful each, his shrine to gain, and press 
To Mammons sordid cheek the lips of God. — 

(Sings.) 

Gold, gold, gold, 

Heav'nly scoiFer, 

What can profter 
Thee, thee, thee, 

When the drear 
Eternity 

Cometh near. 
When glooms unfold, 



117 

And earth is roll'd 

In flame ? 

Then — then 

Thy claim 

'Mongst men — 
Gokl, gokl, gold. 

(A funeral train passing,) 

Ah ! there is death. A train of bleeding hearts, 
Mournful, to the heating sorrow-bosom. 
Haste, in an icy casket to repose 
A mortal gem, e'en for Death's crown of skulls — 
The folds of its mother's breast, around it 
To entwine. Ev'ry smile of death, a tomb. 

(Sings.) 

Childhood's prattle — boyhood's glee, 

Eearing castles sunnily ; 

Hope and love their minstrelsy. 
E'en un weary, 
'Side the dreary. 
Never more. 

Faithful bride, my boyhood's own, 



118 

Love thy life — my heart, thy throne, 
Brightest gems life's soonest loan, 

E'en unweary 

To the dreary 
Never more. 

Heart's dear idol, loved so well, 
Jewels in Love's coronal 
Sealed, alas ! the golden spell 

E'en unweary 
'Side the dreary 
Never more. 

(Enter Strojige?'.) 

STRANGER. 

Too deep in thought engaged, to hold an hour 
In converse. Sir ? 

CARLTON. 

Converse wakes an anthem 
Of the soul — I'm ready, at your bidding. 



119 



STRANGER. (Sitting.) 

My calling prompt etb, to ask the nature 
Of your heart. 

CARLTON. 

Seeking discipiles perchance ? 
What's your creed ? 

STRANGER. 

Easy, Sir, easy. 

CARLTON. 

Let's hear* 

STRANGER. 

A being we possess, gravitating 

Round a center, like the moon and stars 

each, 
Its beams doth borrow, from a greater, — none 
Independent of itself — and this mind. 
Soul, or being, is in itself a world 



120 

Now, within its sky, a sun, moon, and stars ; 
Seas break upon its breast, and calm is there. 
Soul-worlds move in a thought-cycle, complete 
Around an universal center — that 
Center, God. As laughing boyhood, o'erturns 
The drapery of winter, to rear him 
Castles, where he sports the hero, so Soul 
On, onward rolls, accumulating till 
It beams a sun, and breaks its orbit-chain 
Of life, swift hast'ning to God — That's my 
creed. 

CARLTON. 

A fable for a creed. Fool ! hang my soul 
Ton a shred of your deceit ? Hell's reared 
Another barque to navigate the seas 
Of life ! — I'm not a passenger ! No — no. 
Beat a curse to reverence, ere I sip 
Your goblets. — It's title what"? 

STRANGER. 

Ideal. 



121 



CARLTON. 



Ideal? — Gods, — to leap the brain, what's 

next ■? 
Ideal God! by such inspired no doubt? 



STRANaER. 



Philosophy's God's Prophet — a lever 
In the moral world, o'erturning dogmas, 
Hoary with a lie, scorned of ignorance, 
A martyr, 'mid the flames of superstition 
Burning beside the altars of a creed. 
Yea, by grim orthodoxies, crucified. 
Ranting crew, insulting Heav'n, forsooth, 
Cloth'd in the garments of a mockery ! 
Philosophy my shield. 



CARLTO?^. 



Philosophy 
E'en possesseth hearts, outnumbering spheres, 
To soothe the hoary sage amid his toils, 

6 



122 

With draughts of thought, or clothe a doubt 

anon 
With gems divine, to woo a thoughtless soul. 
For God or Hell, Philosophy stands arm'd 
With plausibility. In Eden, first 
Entranced, stood Eve, deriding God and 

Heav'n, 
While Cunning smil'd, and press' d with death 

her lips. 
Your creed uplifts its anxious arms to God, 
To rob Heav'ns archives of eternal truth. 
Falsehood is made divinely sweet, ofttimes 
By honey' d words and reverential mien. 
Ready the world to banquet, — God away. 
Tellj where your sickly texts, and where your 

hopes ? 

STRANGER. 

In the Eternal Word of God. 

CARLTON. 

His Word 
The scorn of fools is made. Ah ! God is 
work'd 



123 

In the harness of a faithless world. His law, 
His love, forgot. Your creed, I've heard, alas ! 
Will sure the careless soul, enlist, and rear 
A spire. Theology arrayed against 
Theology, with saintly prophecy, 
Arm'd alike, each shield a creed, revengeful 
Warring one another with God and right. 
'Pon their banners seal'd, to win a conquest 
'Mid the soul-armies of the Deity, 
Paeans for prayers, and bloodless swords for 
texts. 

Oh ! God, thou well may'st weep ! Thy bleed- 
ing cross 
Asunder torn by cruel thirst, to magnify 
A shrine. 



STRANGER. 

None of that, believe, is mine, but 
Purely progressive. Sir, unknown to war 
Of words, unarm'd as love, yet as meek as 
Childhood's heart. Simplicity doth call it. 
Sister, meekness its dearest confident — 



124 

Yea, Truth the jewel in its coi'onal. 
Progression, the only worthy preacher 
At our shrine. 

CARLTON. 

Ah ! Progressive ? False I say, 
All things new, progressive? there hangs the 

tale. 
Progression craves the prayer, though God 

unfolds 
The mystic realms of thought to mortal eye. 

(Pmising.) 

Genius, God's better workmanship, art thou! 
Waking the silent thought, encumbered deep 
Amid the charnel wreck of centuries. 
Lighting a world with semblances of God, 
Scourg'd to a tomb, unknow^n, unsung, till 

Fame 
Her lyre, awakes and musics forth thy worth. 
To-day, the countless loan of Deity, 
•Altars are burning 'neath thy canopy 
Of Gold, with gifts of superstition pil'd 



125 . 

High as Hell's sway, the damning mockery 
Of onward right, a curse baptiz'd, calling 
A thought unread, pale witchcraftry. 

God ne'er 
Loan'd a gem immortal from his burning 
Crown, to gild with Heav'n, this hemisphere 
Of thought, but man rapacious, mocked its 

gleams, 
Or cried, revengeful, crucify. Onward, 
The right, the chariot of Deity, 
Bearing a God, to crown Earth's liberty. 
Assist progression with your hands. Your 

creed, 
Your prayers, your faith, your hope, are 

mockeries ; 
To be a man, (by Providence defin'd. 
Agree) thought wedded to the heart and hand. 



SCENE. X. 

HELEN AND CAKLTON WALKING UPON THE SEA SHORE. 

Morning, 

HELEN, (pointing to the sea.) 

The swaying mantle of a God, e'en fring'd 
With crystal j)eaiis. 

(Sings.) 

Oil ! the Ocean with its pearls, 
Where a thousand starry worlds 
Eest their shields upon its breast, 
In its halls of coral rest. 

Oh ! the Ocean with its groves. 
Where the Naiads sing their loves, 



127 

Where the storm-king ruleth free, 
With his s ur gy minstrelsy. 

As the morn awakes her rest, 
Hiding stars beneath her breast. 
Gilds thy wave with silv'ry pearls. 
Twines them round thy briny curls ; 

As Aurora, "queen of day," 
Rolls the starry robe away. 
Hastes her glory to unfold. 
And to weave thy breast with gold. 

(Pausing.) 

E'en to the bridegroom-shore the sea extends 
Her shelly goblet, brimm'd with Naiad tears, — 
See, tears doth trickle down the bridegroom's 

cheek. 
So o'erjoy'd with gifts from his azure bride. 
Ah ! see, a lip of blue hath sipp'd them all ; 
Another kiss, his brawny cheek impressed. 
The surges, in the chamber of the winds. 
Their briny ringlets deck with sunny bands, 



128 

Their sprayey fingers gleam with rainbow 

rings. 
The Fairy's bauble fleet with silver sails, 
Are floating on the bosom of a calm. 
No lovelier sphere, but Heaven, than thine, Oh I 
Earth. 

CARLTON. 

Wings of Paradise o'erspread the morn. 
God's eternal smile thrones hath rear'd above, 
Below, and with a glory drap'd a w^orld. I 
Heed the solemn voice of worship, rising 
From Ocean's anthem breast sublime. 

(Pausing.) 

Neptune's 
Briny arm is e'en toying with a calm, 
His fleecy locks some fairy's couch dis^Dlay. 
Life, since last we met, hath worn a gloom — 
In dreams thy goodly form hath hover' d near, 
And led my heart along an endless view 
Of sunsets nearer God. Ofttimes, when deep 
Oppressed with soul-lament, some blissful seer, 



129 

In whisper soft, as innocence with song, 
Would bid me joy, or clothe my gloom with 

God. 
I've clung to God, till God forgave me all. 
The past is written for the future's good. 

(Pausing.) 
A heart I crave, to rest my truant love, 
A heart like thine — the casket of a God 

HELEN. 

God gave the boundless ocean to portray 
Eternity ; each crystal sphere a soul, 
A calm, a storm, a tear, a dirge, a sigh ; 
Each sand, a temple crowned with praise — each 

shell 
A busy architect of God contains — 
Each drop, a sphere of countless multitudes ! — 
Dost thou not love the world ? 

CARLTON. 

This distant gleam, 
The bridal hall of death — altar of tombs ? 
One heart I love, an Eden in its throb ; 



130 

Affection's queen, the sister of a star, 

In sweet simplicity enrob'cl — sinless 

As a prayer of vows — a lieav'n in lier cheek ; 

Her blush like a wave of roses, laving 

A shore of summer skies ; her lips, methinks, 

The regal throne of Cupid's chorister ; 

Her eyes, e'en clasped by silken bands, unfold 

The gems that gild the poet's sweetest strain. 

The poets' heaven is woman's heart and love. 

HELEN. 

Nor sing they well, with love upon the strings ; 
'Tis sorrow's harp, the sweetest symphony 
Awakes. I'd love to see an angel once. 

CARLTON. 

Upon the ocean's mirror rest your eyes, 
Thou'lt see one then — ah ! seest now my love. 

HELEN. 

Nought I see, but here and there a bubble 
Spreading its rainbow wings — portraying life. 

{Pausing.) 



131 

My shadow sleeping there — and thine. Shadows 
Are not angels ? 

CARLTON. 

Angels disdain to own 
Themselves as kindred to angelic throngs, 
Modesty — heart and love ne'er falsify. 
No selfish pride can lead astray their hearts. 
Wert thou no angel, sure, yourself you'd claim 
As one. Pride, more angels than God hath 

made. 
God tells us whom to love. 

HELBN. 

We love too well. 
The dearest lov'd, are soonest. in the grave. 
Quickest in tears, the doting heart is clad. 
'Neath each embrace, a farewell lurketh close. 
A tear-drop dims the flame in Beauty's eye. 
As, one by one, the sorrows bind the heart. 
One of my heart and pride, so full of glee, 
I lov'd her tenderly, and nought could break 
The spell of our congenial loves. We grew 



132 

Like twin flowers, side by side. My blushing 

cheek 
Her's awoke with ruddy glow, and my tears 
Were answer' d by her own. Where'er I roam'd, 
Her footsteps lingered near. She was my sun, 
Gilding my childhood life with one sweet dawn. 
She was the chorus to my ev'ry song. 
Alas ! some spirit in the world of calm 
Desired her sw^eet companionship. (Pausing.) 

Disease 
Cull'd, one by one, the roses on her cheek; 
Her diamond eye beam'd dim. Ah! thus she 

lay, 
Wasting her life, like flowers breathing their 

own, 
Of odors to the winds. 

Oh ! as summer 
Pressed her last kiss upon the weeping groves, 
They laid her in a tomb — pale flowers entwin'd 
Her icy brow, seeming to breath a prayer 
Of innocence from the sleeping shrine of soul ; 
And a smile, as sweet, as if 'twere nourish'd 
By a heart, linger' d on her cheek, telling 
That she was happy with her spirit-loves ! 



133 

(Sings.) 

Smiles are cbiU'd like flowers in winter, 

Sealed upon the icy clay ; 
And no joys can e'er awake them, 

Nor their loves around them stray. 

We were born to bear our sorrows, 
See of joy one transient view ; 

Partings wake the tearful fountains, 
Ev'ry day brings an adieu. 

Ev'ry wave that furrows ocean, 
Throws its tears upon the shore ; 

Sings a dirge, and then another 
Weeps a sister gone before. 

CARLTON. 

A song thou art, a dulcet melody, , 
The lute of love, sweetest of the eclio-choir. 
Thy heart with all its priceless good, I crave. 
Bind not the chain of cold neglectful glance 
Around uplifted arms of Passion's God, 



134 

E'en asking of itself a godly rest 
With love. 

I'm weary with my youthful toils ; 
Alone I taste the bitter of the hours, 
A heart within a heart is God and Heaven. 
Are not my words the angels of my love ? 
O, bid them wing a promise to my heart. 
Those eyes — those eyes, the banquet-halls of 

love, 
God's pearls within a coronal of thought — ■ 
The diamond tapers in a sky of smiles. 
Oh ! love, love, love ! Heav'n in a syllable ! 
Thou, only can I love. Thou seem'st alone 
To weep for me. Oh ! tears, sweet messengers 
Of the heart, learn' d in the silent breathings 
Of that Summer-land ! We are lov'd, they tell, 
Unforgot, though on bleaks of orphanage. 
I've crav'd your gems. The guiding-star of life 
Was early chilled — maternal lips forgat 
Their sinless lullaby. But oft, when sleep 
My weari'd harp unstrung, and husli'd my 

tears, 
A gentle voice, e'en like sunset brooding 



135 

Oe'r a calm, would soothe my soul with blissful 
Song — a mother's prayer in Heaven. Dost thou 
love? 

HELEN. 

Girlhood or age, without its love, a blight — 
Yea, meanless miniatures on life's page ; 
A soul congeal' d — a heart without a song. 
A woman's heart, (too oft a fleeting toy,) 
Form'd of the purest love beyond the spheres, 
The palace of a God, in girlhood's prime. 
As ruby rivulets unite, to form 
A sea of roses on her cheek. 

Ah ! give 
To womanhood the worth she merits well. 
And coming years will ne'er o'erthrow her 

love. 
Amid the storm and tempest firm unmov'd, 
A household deity. But oh ! her heart. 
The banquet-hall of love, of virtue too, 
Once broke by cruel scorn, doth need the 

Hand 
Divine, to wake it into life again. 



136 

Woman's heart, the tenderest gift of Heaven, 
The only gift that Adam crav'd of God ! 
Love is a tender bud, that asks the heart 
For life, but chill'd by base neglect, it blooms 
Beside the streams of morn in Heav'n alone. 
Oh ! shall I bid old Ocean sing a song 
Upon his lute of calm ? 



(Sings.) 

Love ye. Ocean, love ye v^eeping, 
Weeping for the stars again, 
Weari'd on the golden plain ? 

Zephyrs fan ye, calms are sleeping, 
Sleeping on the Naiads breast. 
Briny ringlets o'er thee, rest. 

Love ye, Ocean, love ye laving, 
Laving shells upon the shore ? 
Bridal vows thou'st seal'd before. 

Bridegroom thou, the fairies craving. 
Craving e'en thy shells and pearls 
To adorn their surging curls. 



137 

Love ye, Ocean, love ye bowing, 
Bov^ing side your coral shrine ? 
Sunny hands thy brov^ entwine. 

Lov'st thy bridegroom, Ocean, vowing 
Vowing e'er to guard thy rest, 
Pillow'd on his brawny breast. 

CARLTON. 

Thy thoughts come leaping, like a wave, from 

seas 
Of song. O'er that pure crystal sheen of love, 
Whose waves ne'er whelm the watchful mar- 
iner. 
Sweeping a surge of anthems 'pon the shore 
Of summer isles, fann'd by the minstrel 

zephyrs, 
Balmy train, shall we float our argosies 
Of hearts, mann'd with vows — angels at the 

helm ? 
My love the angels, with their records near. 
To pen our vows upon the heart of God. 
Doth Heav'n alone give ear to pleading hearts ? 
I'll love — -ah ! love is God ! 



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